An Untold Love
by FallingFromBrokenWings
Summary: Over a decade's worth of life has been shrouded in darkness. It's an untold story. One that needs to be told. Life and love. Both lost and found. But ask yourself this; What would you do for love?


A/N No, I'm not dead.

And no, my other fic is not abandoned.

So… welcome! To an untold tale, of an untold love.

* * *

July 17th, 2010  
Quantum Flight 13, L.A. to Shanghai, Over Pacific waters  
2100 Zulu time

The plane rocked gently from the turbulence the pilot mentioned mere minutes ago, causing the blonde beauty leaning into his left side to stir. Her features were soft, almost angelic, and when her eyes opened, his breath and heart stood still. The flutter of eyelids reveals irises of the deepest ocean-blue, soft yet wise beyond her youthful appearance. She lets a moan slips past her cherry lips as she stretches the sleep out of her limbs. Her eyes lock with his, his gaze softening.

"You were staring at me while I was sleeping again, weren't you?" She asks in a teasing tone, biting the corner of her lower lip in a matching smile.

He blushes lightly, not believing that she can still do this to him so easily. "There's no other place that I'd want my eyes to rest."

She sighs contently, gingerly brushing her lips against his before burrowing her head into the crook of his neck. "You get some sleep too, alright?"

"I will, love." He says smiling lightly.

Her eyes close once more, her mind running over each and every one of his features. His face, soft yet rough. The five-o-clock shadow he somehow almost always has. His short hair, a near-black and in permanent disarray. His eyes, which only softened for her, an unnaturally light smoke-grey. The last thought to travel through her mind, before finding dreamless sleep, was his lips. Of how, now, they were warm, tasting faintly of nicotine and cinnamon. How they had once been cold and coppery.

He sighs, as her breathing deepens, and kisses her forehead gently. Calmly running his hand through her blonde tresses, he too closes his eyes. His last thought, before a near dreamless sleep, is similar to that of the angel in his arms. His thoughts drift to him about how soft, how her trembling lips felt, how they gave their first kiss to each other so many years ago.

To that day, when he chose the path less travelled by.

To that day, when his love for her was sealed.

To that day…

* * *

_That day had been cold, raining in fact. He had run, hard and fast, yet still unable to catch up to him. That son-of-a-bitch had taken her, when he promised he would protect her with his life. _

_A scream._

_Stopping hard he cocks his head in the direction of her cry. It was loud, desperate and painful to his ears. His heart beat quickens as does his feet. Scaling a fence, he stops. Nothing but a mundane office building most would think. But he knew better. That logo. That goddamn logo. Simple red and white._

_He quietly approaches the front doors, peering through the glass that flanked them. Nothing but darkness. He tugs on the handle of the door, opening a mouth into the dark._

_The air was pungent, mouldy. The smell of fresh, coppery blood. A near-silent whimper on the floor above. Shuffling his way down the hall, his foot connects with the limp, fleshy leg of a security guard. His hand slams against his mouth, holding down an urge to scream. He swallows his fear, reaching down and pulling the gun out of the man's holster. _

_A Colt. He pulls the slide back partially, finding a round in the chamber. He ejects the magazine, loaded with seven rounds. He sighs, sliding the magazine back in. Eight rounds._

_He hoped to God that was enough…_

* * *

Who wasn't on the plane wasn't quite as important as to who _was _on the plane. James and Mary Harris weren't on the plane, yet their seats were taken by a sleeping couple. The male's head rocked back and forth, his face contorted in apprehension.

But, a certain ex-mercenary was on the plane. The Latin man was sitting only a seat behind and to the right of the aforementioned couple. His hair was casually slicked back; a pair of aviators sat lightly on his nose, dressed simply in a dark pair of jeans and a partially unbuttoned black collared shirt.

His gaze only averted from the couple when a well endowed hostess strolled by, casting him a coy half-smile. He grinned, cocking an eyebrow up. She past and his gaze instantly returned to the couple.

He had first taken interest in the pretty blonde of the duo, back at the terminal. The soft features of her face and almost schoolgirl-like appearance had caught his attention. He bit down on his hormones though, when he noticed her partner, a man his height but lighter in build.

At first he was puzzled. The familiarity of the couple was unnerving. It wasn't until the passengers, himself included, boarded the 747, that he knew where he had seen them. At headquarters, dozens of pictures stuck into a rough eight-year timeline took up a single room. In the earliest, the pair were just children, walking through crowded streets. As time progressed, they grew.

The couple in front of him were _them._ The organization had been looking for them for sometime. After the Kijuju Incident the year before, their efforts doubled. They had teams of people in almost every country looking for them.

_They would have had one hell of a time recognizing them,_ he thought. The most recent picture of them had been taken no more then two years ago. They had looked near-death in that picture, holding on to each other tight. Now, they looked full of life, of hope… of love.

He chuckled softly. Years of looking, hundreds of men and women working twenty-four-seven to find them, and he finds them by coincident, they just by happen-stance taking the same flight as him.

_So much for the vacation, _he muses.

The male woke up with a jump, wrapping his arm protectively around the women who was still asleep. The man sighs, as he kissed her head. He nearly chokes on a sob, before swallowing it down. His other arm wraps around the woman's other side, holding her firmly against him.

The ex-mercenary had seen many things, many times. But a love like this? He had only seen once, the year before. When Chris had returned to America with Jill. The look in his eyes was just like that of the man in front of him.

But Chris had lost Jill. One had to die for a love to be like this. Does that mean…

* * *

_No. He wouldn't let her die. He had promised her. They had come this far… together. They would go even farther… together. _

_He slides the door to the stairwell open, the gun in his hand trained on the stairs. He cautiously begins to ascend the stairs. The hall with the dead guard behind him, his heart races while his mind keeps asking himself._

_Is this all worth fighting for? Absolutely._

_What are you fighting for? Her._

_Why?_

_The mental question causes his pace to falter. _

_Why? I made a promise._

_Bullshit, his mind answers back. You love her._

_He sighs, as he stops at the top of the first flight of stairs. _

_You love her? Yes. I love her. The way she talks, the way she smiles, the way her eyes shine only for me, the way she hugs me when she says I look like I needed one, her teasing… her. I love __**her**_.

_His mind goes quiet for a moment, so he begins his ascent once more. But one last question floats into his head._

_What would you do for love?_

"_Everything." He answers aloud._

* * *

The pilot once again warns the passengers of incoming turbulence, this time for the descent to the airport's runway. The young man gently shakes the woman awake. She swats at his hand at first, before her eyes slowly open. She grimaces as she tries to straighten her neck.

"We'll be landing shortly, love." He says, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

She playfully swats his hand. "So what's the plan for Shanghai?"

"The usual. Buy a gun, find somewhere to live, keep a low profile, etcetera, etcetera."

She rubs the back of her head nervously. "I'm… tired of running…"

He smiles softly. "So am I, but we can't afford to be found."

"That's just it," She looks him dead in the eyes. "I… don't think he's looking anymore."

Confused, he asks. "Why's that?"

"I haven't had any nightmares… not for the last year. And they all involved _him. _In my last nightmare, he…"

"He what?"

She smiles gravely at him. "He died. And after that, I've stopped having nightmares."

He shakes his head. "That doesn't mea-"

She interrupts, raising her voice slightly. "Ever since Raccoon City, ever since _he _got his hands on me, I've had nightmares. They all involved _him. _Now, my dreams are clear. I'm no longer scared. I'm no longer feeling like I'm being watched. I feel… free. For the first time in my life, I feel like I don't have to hide, to run."

He looks gently into her eyes. The sureness in them is too much to ignore. "Alright," he kisses her cheek. "No more running. What will we do then?"

She hugs him tightly. "Take me home, 'Johnny'." She giggles softly into his ear.

"Oh no," He chuckles. "No more aliases if we stop running, 'Naomi'."

* * *

Carlos smiles at the sight before him. He only caught what she said when she raised her voice. But, it was enough for him to know his job would be a lot easier. He knew _he _was dead.

It was over. Well, not all of it. But this? This was over. Twelve years later and the mess will finally be closed.

_It'll be simple, _he thought, _I'll walk up, tell them who I am, who I know, and what has happened. Not all at once, but enough to convince them to trust me. _He smiles even brighter, leaning back into his seat.

_I'll take them back, get a promotion, get a raise, maybe a medal, might even be called a hero! And I might just get a kiss from Jill. _He laughs full-heartedly. _Aw, keep dreamin' amigo._

* * *

A/N

I needed to write something a littler darker than my other fic. But, alas, I couldn't go through and through with it. It was fairly light in some places. Curse you, my need for happiness!

Anyway, I thinks some of the dates may be wrong, in terms of what happened when in the RE canon. If it is wrong tell me, and I'll fix it! Seriously, criticism is good. No flaming or anything. Just criticism.

And I may sound like a hypocrite, but here is a tip for anyone who reads this and is planning on writing their first fan-fic. Type it up in something like Microsoft Word first. It might be common knowledge, but I've read a couple fics that have simple mistakes that Word usually catches. I know if I didn't write this in Word, it'd be illegible.

Food for thought!


End file.
